about 




i f 



A 















^r/^'i^'^'V? 







■i'^^If'°^ 




- Jl 




Fas 

Book rP4L 



WHAT MAINE OFFERS 



AND WPIY MAINE IS COOTj 




AN IDEAL SUMMER SEA— ITS WATERS THE ULTIMA THULE 
OF YACHTSMEN — ITS SHORES AND ISLANDS TOURIST- 
THRONG E D — W H E R E SCENIC BEAUTY AND MAJESTY 
GO HAND IN HAND AND OLD OCEAN, THE GREAT 
INVIGORATOR THRILLS THE BLOOD. ^a/J^ 

(Reprint of a paper prepared and delivered by Mrs. Annie G, Pepper.) 

A I N B — the land of Maine — has been claimed by 
many nations. The Indian tribe of Abenakis 
originally owned it. When discovered by the 
Northmen it formed a part of "Vinland the Good," as far back 
as I002. It was the northern part of New France in 1557, a 
part of North Virginia in 1606, and of New England in 1620. 
In 1639 it was called the province of Maine, in Massachusetts, 
and in 1787 was separated and since 1820 has honorably 
existed as one of the United States of America. 

Governor Chamberlain, in his Centennial address, assures 
himself and the world that Maine had already, in 1607-8, 
permanent settlements in the region of Fort Popham, Monhe- 
gan and Pemaquid, and was granting title deeds in 1625 while 
the Pilgrims were getting a foothold on Plymouth Rock. 

Pemaquid was a seat of government and trade, a metropolis 
years before the Pilgrims were established. In their first trying 
winter at Plymouth, when beset by unfriendly Indians and cold 
and hunger, they sent out a little shallop in search of help, 
which found its way to these same Maine settlements, and it 
was Samoset, the Lord of Pemaquid, who saluted them with the 
English greeting, "Much Welcome Englishmen!" 

Maine was, in some sense, the offspring of no other 
American colony, but was herself the beginning of New 
England, and so came honestly by the motto, "Dirigo." If 
you have any doubt of this, go some day next summer, to Old 
Jamestown, on Pemaquid Harbor, and hear from the lips of a 
man who knows all about it, the long and short of this story. 
See for yourself the excavations showing the streets of a city 
regularly laid out and paved with cobblestones. Wander about 
the walls of the old Fort, count the towers thereof, see the clay 
pipes from the factory where they were made, no one knows 
how many years ago ; and relics, real relics, without name or 



number. The early settlers of the state, who eventually held 
it, were thoroughly English Tories, they were loyal to king 
and church, so there was but little sympathy between them and 
the Puritan dissenters of Massachusetts. However for the sake 
of protection from Indians and from encroachments of the 
Canadian French, they were driven to a union with them. 
This was by no means an equal union, but, like that of the 
toad and the fly, and Maine was the fly. Nevertheless there 
was safety in it and it will always be proudly remembered that 
the first royal Governor of Massachusetts was Sir Wm. Phipps 
of Woolwich of the Province of Maine. Remember these were 
the "good old days when we lived under the King" and even 
commoners were knighted for meritorious deeds. We are told 
he was the twenty-sixth child of one mother. This would seem 
to be distinction enough, but, later in life he succeeded in 
raising vast sums of specie from a sunken Spanish ship off 
the Bermudas. For this he was knighted and received a large 
share of the money. It was he who built Fort Pemaquid. 

By the union of Maine and Massachusetts, New England 
was saved to Protestant England from the Jesuits of France, 
who had mission stations up and down the Kennebec ; Father 
Rasle, of Norridgewock (Old Point) was at the head of one. 
These French made frequent attacks on Pemaquid to keep a 
show of the claim that the eastern boundary of Acadia was the 
Kennebec and not St. John and St. Croix. 

This quite reminds us of the way the whole western part of 
^he United States were saved to our nation from the encroach- 
ments of the English on the north and from Mexicans on the 
south, through the brave efforts of two Methodist missionaries, 
who came through great hardships to Washington and com- 
manded the consideration of the question by such a man as 
Daniel Webster. The story is graphically told by Parkman. 

Maine was forty years incorporated with Massachusetts, 
but in 1785 the question of a separation was agitated. The 
Maine people were so scattered it was hard to get an expression 
of public opinion. A convention was at length called and the 
matter discussed. The first vote for a petition for separation 
was lost, but was reconsidered, and after a hot debate was 
carried by two majority. Just how history would have read 
today if those two men would have refrained from voting, no 
one will ever know, but as we read history backwards, we 
rejoice that they did their duty like men at the polls. 

This is perhaps the best place to do honor to those men and 
women who were the pioneers in this inhostile country. I 
once heard the people on one of our islands tell of the way their 



forefathers lived, and their lot was quite like that of the early 
settlers throughout the state. On the shores clams formed a 
staple of food ; fish also, while pork, beef and poultry were at 
first scarce and only for high feasts and holidays. Corn and 
rye were ground at home at first and then later taken to mill 
however far away, the miller taking toll as his pay for grind- 
ing ; cracked corn and hulled corn were eaten with a relish. 
Pumpkins dried in big rings and chains were cooked into a 
bread and used in many ways. Dried peas and beans and 
berries were also used. In the very early times there were no 
fruits, but wild berries and nuts. As an old lady said, whatever 
was "cheap and fillin" was gratefully received. Natural hides 
made into clumsy shoes, served for grown people, but the 
children ran about the clay floors all winter in their bare feet. 
One man said he knew little about shoes 'till he was "well 
up" and his feet were "tough as geese feet," and people never 
were as healthy as in those "good old times." I venture to 
suggest that only those with "geese feet" had survived. On 
long travels and while hunting, men used snowshoes, indeed 
they were a necessity, and with them hunters could quite easily 
overtake their game, especially if the crust was not strong. 

The sheep-fold and the flax fields yielded the raw material 
for their clothing. This was prepared, spun, dyed and woven 
in the homes, then cut and made and worn ; the same stout 
garments, sometimes from generation to generation. Oh ! for 
the days when a hat or dress or a cloak would last while the 
wheel of time made one full round. Just think of it, friends, 
what honor and bliss to wear your great-grand-mother's cloak. 
A few only of the home-made quilts and blankets and towels 
and table cloths are left ; well do we treasure them. 

The ancestral mother of one of our townsmen was living 
down by the mouth of the Kennebec, while her husband was 
away in the Revolutionary War. Rumors of red coats alarmed 
her ; so she gathered her large flock of little children, and, 
with Indain guides, rowed up the Kennebec— up and up, past 
rip and falls into the wilderness of Embden. The very first 
settler there. When near Winslow the Indians kidnapped one 
of her boys, but in a day or two he was brought back with the 
statement, "Enough Indian papoose, no want white papoose." 
If that boy had not been returned. Dr. Hutchins would today 
be a blanketed Indian. This Mrs. Samuel Hutchins was a 
brave women. On her way up the river she came in posses- 
sion of a cow somehow. She had that much to begin house- 
keeping with. They made a small hovel for the cow, and a 
somewhat larger one for the family. One night she heard 

3 



a great commotion where the cow was, rose and found a hungry 
wolf attacking her. Mrs. Samuel and her boys killed the 
wolf and saved the cow. On the banks of the Carrabasset- 
River is the land she selected for her farm and it is the best in 
town. 

So much for history. A word for the physical geography 
of our State. A paralled of latitude from the tip end of Cape 
Sable in Nova Scotia would strike our country somewhere 
below Saco, about York Beach, leaving a big bay above the 
line. This is called the Gulf of Maine, and includes the 
Bay of Fundy. This whole water is not heated by the Gulf 
Stream, for after leaving the Massachusetts coast it goes out to 
sea, away past Newfoundland, and on to the European coasts. 
Instead of that warm current, a cold Arctic one sweeps close 
round the point of Cape Sable, and eddying round in the Gulf 
of Maine, lowers the temperature of the whole region. These 
Arctic currents laden with icebergs, have for centuries beaten 
against the coast, till the whole shore is ragged out like a 
fringe. Ridges of bare rock jut out into the sea, ending in 
reefs and rocky islands, so our coast is unlike any other on the 
continent. The sea front, as the crows fly, is about two 
hundred and fifty miles, but to follow the water line it is over 
three thousand. 

The three thousand or more islands that dot the shore, are 
of all sizes from four or five thousand acres to a mere rock or 
low-lying reef. Looking at the map again, we see that the 
rivers in the south and west, run as directly as possible to the 
Atlantic, but in the northern part the water flows north, then 
east into the St. John, and then south into the Bay of Fundy. 
The water shed in the eastern part of the State consists of 
irregular ranges of hills, with the same southwesterly trend of 
all the Appalachian ranges. One of the remarkable character- 
istics of the State is its system of lakes — chains of broad 
reservoirs — a storage for unlimited quantities of water. These 
lakes sometimes lie in the dense, dark, swampy forests, while 
others have lovely, clean, well-defined shores and sandy or 
pebbly bottoms. In the regions of Moosehead Lake, the rivers 
flow in au}^ and every direction. They often serve as threads 
on which to string the beads of lakes and ponds, and that 
whole region is a network of blue waters and verdant lands. 

The flow of these rivers represents millions and millions of 
horse-power. They are harnessed at frequent intervals and 
made to do service in manufactures of all kinds. Our own 
Kennebec is a sample. Saw mills everywhere, and pulp mills 
anywhere ; cotton mills, woolen mills, and electric power 

4 



stations for heating and lighting, and for power for machinery 
and roads away from the river banks. 

The rivers are a tremendous power, with all future possi- 
bilities, but the power of the rivers is matched by the power of 
hills. These are mainly irregular ranges, wandering here and 
there ; others rise abruptly from the plain, like Kineo, 
Kathadin, Spencer, Mars Hill and Mt. Abraham. These have 
bald head tops. 

Many of these hills are of granite of such quality and 
quantity, that they are a source of wealth to the State. The 
government recognizes the worth of our granite, and uses 
large quantities for public buildings and monuments. Many 
places on the coast and in the interior have valuable quarries. 
Slate of a superior quality is found in many sections, rare 
precious tourmalines and other gems at Paris or Mars Hill ; 
lime from the Rockland region that is not excelled, and Iron 
the best in the world for car wheels, at Katahdin Iron Works. 

The hills and valleys alike, are available for agriculture and 
dairy purposes. Grain and roots, and fruits, both wild and 
cultivated, enrich the State. I have seen miles of rich-colored 
apples, almost black, in Oxford County, and potatoes, load on 
load afar in Aroostook County, and starch enough to stiffen a 
nation. There is ice and more ice, great, clear, clean crystals, 
warranted free from microbes. Time would fail me to speak of 
the timber which uses the river as a highway, of the lumber 
made in many saw-mills, and the tanneries supplied with 
hemlock bark, so abundant in the interior. In the winter the 
woods are full of armies of men, getting out the materials for 
the saw and pulp mills. 

We have what is called the "Industries of Maine." To 
many it will seem inappropriate to class under that head all 
that pertains to it as the playground and sanitarium of this 
continent, and others, for that matter It is, moreover, a 
business^ and a paying one. It is no small affair to provide 
conveniences for the host who come from early spring to early 
winter, for fishing and hunting and visiting and playing, bath- 
ing, loafing or frolicking by lake or stream and piney shore and 
sandy beach, and in the deep, dark wilderness of woods. 
"Rusticators" we call them. They made a business of rusti- 
cating and we make a business of helping them. 

The requisite steamers and railways and camps and hotels 
and guides and hosts of men and women in their service, 
besides the marketing of all sorts of edibles and other commodi- 
ties, result in the enrichment of our State by many millions of 
dollars annually. This for us, and to the visitor is given rest 

5 



and refreshment and amusement, often a new lease of life to 
many a worn out man or woman. 

Ozone in unlimited quantities, is set loose in our forest, 
balsamic odors are generated there, invigorating breezes make 
even our midsummer days a delight, health-giving waters, 
pure as crystal, flow freely at all times and everywhere. In all 
this is an ever increasing revenue for our State. 

Railways and steamers represents the life of a country as 
the circulation in veins and arteries tell of the vitality of a man. 
The development of these is commensurate with the develop- 
ment of a country. The one bespeaks the other. When the 
railroad was born the stage coach died. Anyone at all con- 
versant with travel through the State and to and from it, must 
be proud of the admirable accommodations, generous service, 
and gracious administration of the various lines of boats and 
roads. 

The work of the hunters was very manifest as I saw recent- 
ly at various stations beyond Bangor heaps of meek-eyed deer 
and sometimes a moose or caribou. Never were so many of 
these beautiful creatures killed as in this season of '99, also 
larger quantity of salmon and trout, besides duck and other 
wildfowl than usual. 

And what else do we raise ? 

Men and women. We have the very best raw material for 
this in our ruddy-faced boys and girls. Good homes, good 
schools, academies, colleges and professional schools. The first 
for the people, the latter for professionals. A thousand people 
with common sense to one of uncommon. This is as it should 
be. 

It is interesting to go into school or academy where the 
pupils are seated, and see them rising tier above tier, heads and 
faces, mostly eyes. This is the fair way to judge of them. 
When later they rise to file past you, with perhaps a poor or ill- 
fitted garment, and a graceless movement, you ignore that and 
remember only the pleasant, intelligent faces, and the clear 
true eyes. A term at a gymnasium and the touch of a tailor's 
hand will remedy the one, but the other is a divine gift, and of 
it, Maine men and women are made. 

It is already a matter of history that no State has had a 
more honorable part in the formation of the good moral 
character of the country at large than our own. The Maine 
woman as well as man, has stood for patriotism at every hour 
of our country's need. A few Maine families in a new country 
has secured for it uprightness and integrity in state, municipal 

6 



and private affairs, I may .say the Colby or Bowdoin man is 
offered the first p]ace wherever he goes. 

As I stood in the Maine building in the World's Fair, at 
Chicago, I saw people filing past a pretty picture taken from 
somewhere on our coast. It had the characteristic rocky point 
topped off with feathery firs. Beneath were the following 
words, written by Robert Rexdale, Rockford, Illinois. Those 
few words so well said, at the right time, to the right people, 
were better than a row of volumes. I have since learned that 
the name is the "nom de plume" of a former Portland man. 
Anyone would know he knew what he was talking about, by 
the effect on the honest people who read it, one by one, and 
went away with a smile on their face and a tear in each eye. 
The words are these : 

"To-night across my senses steals the perfume of the pine, 

Oh, sweeter far to homesick hearts than draughts of fragrant wine ; 

Again uplift the seagirt isles where sylvan beauties reign. 

And dreams of thee come back to me, Oh, Motherland of Maine. 

Thy glories gleam before my eyes, as in the olden days, 
I see again the labyrinths of Casco's lovely bays; 
The sea gull's cry rings in my ears, as o'er the foam he flies. 
And memory sets her signal lights along the darkened skies. 

There's laughter in the swaying pines, there's music in the gale; 
Elach ship upon the sea tonight is some remembered sail, 
And peering through the flying mist, that holds me in its spell, 
I cry, "What ho! O mariners!" the answer is, "Farewell!" 

I^ike phantom ships before the wind, they to their havens flee. 
While I a wanderer must drift upon a shoreless sea, 
But while the fires of being burn within the conscious brain. 
My eyes will seek thy far-off coast, Oh, Motherland of Maine." 



If yoti wish to know more about the beauties of the country 
bordering "the Gulf of Maine," send for guide books to 
F. B. BooTHBY, General Passenger Agent, Maine Central 
Railroad, Portland, Maine. 



I 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



013 995 561 4 



rasg^. 



m 






^^. 



